


Man That You Fear

by Ghiacciolite



Series: Don't Stand So Close To Me (scarecrow/reader) [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Degradation, F/M, Fear, Kidnapping, Light Sadism, Loss of Control, Needles, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Nudity, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Yandere, naked and afraid, youre REALLY regretting that crush you had back in college
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24100549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghiacciolite/pseuds/Ghiacciolite
Summary: You always feel a little on edge when he's broken out of Arkham, always dreading the day that he comes foryou. On this dark night, your worst fear comes true...
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Reader, Jonathan Crane/You
Series: Don't Stand So Close To Me (scarecrow/reader) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738855
Comments: 11
Kudos: 83





	Man That You Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Song title is from my favorite Marilyn Manson song (and one that TOTALLY fits Jonathan Crane in my opinion): "Man That You Fear"! This is my longest fic I've ever written, I hope you enjoy it!

Out in the fields, there was a scarecrow.

Its cloth limbs shook in the wind and its head bowed heavy in the rain as if praying for warmth, but it stood strong, protecting the fields and haunting the nightmares of young Jonathan Crane.

In restless dreams he raced through the fields, struggling to find his way out to freedom. Sure, the real world wasn't nice, he had the bruises and bandages as evidence of that, but running through the fields, knowing something was just waiting for him to let his guard down, was worse.

And looming over head, watching with its empty sack cloth eyes, the scarecrow stood. Silent. Foreboding. But always there.

Years went by. Jonathan Crane grew into a young man, then an adult, and then nestled down neatly into the role of 'criminal madman'. But the scarecrow stayed in his thoughts, ever present. He patterned himself after it, clothed himself and named himself in its image. In time, it shifted from fear to facade.

Unfortunately, those fears had now been passed to the residents of Gotham, including you. Though unlikely to be a target for the Scarecrow, in fact you were _much_ more likely to be murdered by the Joker or Zsasz, you still couldn't shake that uncomfortable sense of dread you got whenever the news said he had escaped that awful asylum. Every step on your walk home felt like it could be your last, and once you arrived you would always make sure every door and window was locked tight. Your friends expressed worry for you when they learned you still checked in your closets and under your bed at night. But you laughed away their concerns and secretly kept on.

You were safe.

Until that red October night.

The moon hang full and heavy, its surface a glowing orange in the red sky. Sunset. You huddled deeper into your coat, pulling your scarf closer. Gotham was always chilly in the fall. Only a few more steps until you were home.

The doorknob turned easily and you slumped inside, exhausted from being on your feet all day. You shuffled out of your shoes and dropped your purse beside the door, making sure to lock it. As you stumbled into the living room, you were startled by the sounds of screams.

You could've sworn you had turned the television off before leaving for work, but then again, you _were_ in a hurry. The movie playing was Night Of The Living Dead. You shuddered as you turned it off. Regardless of how old it was, that movie had always given you chills. It wasn't so much the zombies themselves, but the entire movie held such an eerie atmosphere that you just couldn't stand.

After such a long day, made even longer by hordes of people suddenly realizing Halloween was _tomorrow_ and they hadn't bought any candy, you felt like you deserved a very long and scorchingly hot shower. You gathered up your things, ran the water and stepped in.

Not even five minutes later, the power went out, stranding you in darkness.

Naked, wet, and more than a little freaked out, you turned off the water and stepped back out, wrapping a towel around yourself before leaving the bathroom. You thought over every possible reason you could imagine the power would go out. There hadn't been a storm, you were sure your bills were paid, could be a short circuit or you had more appliances running at once than you thought. Dripping on the floor, you were determined to at least try finding the circuit breaker and ruling that out.

Even in the best of times, you weren't a fan of pitch black darkness. You slowly stumbled your way down the hall, doing your best to hold your towel up with one hand and feel your way around with the other. You could've sworn your apartment wasn't this big in the daylight.

You wrapped your hand around what you were reasonably certain was the doorknob to your bedroom, where the circuit breakers were. The thought of traveling all that way only to wind up walking into your closet brought a grin to your previously grim face.

You shuffled your way into your room, being careful to not trip over anything you might've dropped in your hurry to get dressed that morning. Less than six feet away from the circuit breaker and the flashlight hanging next to it, every step taking you closer and closer.

Until you ran into something that should not have been there.

Someone.

Standing in front of you, whatever, whoever, it was, wrapped their long arms around you, pulling you closer to them until you were pressed directly against their body. You tried to scream but terror took the sound before you made it. Struggling did no good, as they simply held you even tighter.

“Aw, something wrong? Scared? I'm hurt, you used to hold me in such high regards!”

That voice.

You knew who it was. The terror on the television, the nightmare in the newspapers. The professor in your psychology class from all those years ago.

Professor Jonathan Crane. The Scarecrow. They were one and the same. You remembered vividly the first time you heard him mentioned on the news, how shocked you were to hear the things he did to his victims, how you wouldn't have believed it if they didn't show his mugshot.

From that day forward, you had lived in fear, terrified of ever seeing him again and having to reconcile your college crush with such a monster.

And there he was, standing before you in the darkness, gripping you with a strength you didn't know he had, taunting and terrorizing you with his presence.

“Cat got your tongue? It's been so long, surely you remember your dear professor. You used to be _so_ fond of me...”

You felt your face flush as blood rushed to it and gripped your towel tighter around you.

His fingernails dug into your skin and you yelped. “I-I remember you!”

He chuckled, swaying slightly with you held in his arms almost like the two of you were softly dancing. Your breath quickened and you began to feel dizzy, the stress was getting to you and making you hyperventilate. It was only the fear of what would happen if you fell unconscious that helped you regulate your breathing enough to stay awake.

“Why, why are you here? What do you want from me?” The words fell out of your mouth like leaves from a tree; softly, slowly, and without much impact.

“What reason should I have, other than to see my star pupil again? Oh, I may not have shown it, but you _were_ my favorite. You helped me, you know. Without you, I never would've realized quite how much pleasure I get out of terrifying others, the sheer joy it causes me! I've been chasing that feeling for such a long time, but no one has had a reaction nearly as enjoyable as yours. I could watch you squirm all day.”

He stopped his swaying, and with a quick shove, you were sprawled on your bed, scrambling to cover yourself. You weren't sure how he was certain your bed was there, or if he really was at all, but on the off chance he could somehow see in the dark, you didn't want to risk him seeing something he shouldn't.

“I-I-If you're just here to scare me, you... you should leave! You've done a good enough job of that as is!” You spoke loudly, unsure of where he was but wanting your voice to be heard.

You felt the bed sink in, he had climbed up with you. One of his hands ran down your face, those long fingers tracing your features delicately, and you felt like you had jumped out of your skin.

“I have indeed, but it wasn't my only reason. You see, I've been thinking about you quite a lot lately, the way you would look at me in class and how you would linger outside my office. Back then, it would've been quite a scandal if I had taken an interest in you, you being my student, but now... I believe you and I could have quite the partnership.”

You said nothing, thinking his words over in your head. On the one hand, you were terrified, he had broken into your house and engineered a blackout while you were naked, and the thought of being spirited away to wherever he normally lurked gave you chills. But on the other hand, the longer he talked, the more you realized that old flame for him had never truly burnt out. Criminal or not, he was still that gangly, southern-accented, bespectacled, bookworm you had fallen for years prior.

“I-I don't know...”

His hand stilled on your face, not even the slightest movement detectable.

“You're a smart girl, my dear, why would you give this up? There's no need to act coy, this is what you wanted. I know you've been waiting for me, the time just wasn't right until now. You know what they call tonight, the night before All Hallows' Eve, don't you?”

He leaned so closely over you that his nose was pressed against your cheek. You clenched your eyes closed tightly and tensed up, not wanting to feel his hot breath on your skin.

_“They call it, 'Devil's Night'.”_

Without any warning, his hand was over your mouth, covering it tightly and pressing you to the bed. You thrashed, more terrified than you had been the entire night, your screams muffled by his hand.

“Now now, don't struggle, it's useless. This is all necessary, on Devil's Night there _has_ to be a bit of mayhem and mischief.” With his hand still firmly holding you down, you could feel him shifting over, climbing on top of you until he was sitting directly on your chest, his knees resting on your arm. Something sharp began to trace its way up your right arm, slowing down near the inner portion of your elbow.

“This will only sting for a moment...”

The needle pierced your skin, the warm liquid inside mixing with your bloodstream. You could no longer scream, had you tried to talk you would barely be able to manage a whisper. You didn't even flinch when he ran his fingers gently through your hair.

“That wasn't so bad, was it, darling? We'll get you home before you know it, but now... now you should sleep.”

Your eyelids felt heavy, and, despite your best efforts, you drifted off into sleep, unknowing of when or where you would awake later, only knowing one thing.

Wherever you would be, you wouldn't be alone.

**Author's Note:**

> There's a slight reference to Michael Jackson's "Thriller" hidden in there, hopefully it won't be too hard to find!


End file.
